When you overwork…

About: By which you’re working yourself a little too hard (or a lot) + are worried about falling behind your peers…

CW: Comfort, but it might hurt a bit (^^;)

Charas: Childe, Zhongli, Ganyu

Writing & Matchup Comms Open!

• “Whoa there,” Childe catches you before you can throw yourself into another pile of work. “Slow down, comrade. When was the last time you took a break?”
• He recognises it; the desperation hidden in your tone when you tell him there’s too much to do to mess around, and that you were fine.
• You were obviously not fine. Childe has seen many work themselves to the bone only to burn out in terrible ways. He doesn’t want that to happen to you - selfishly, he likes you better with some light in your eyes.
• “Then how about this? Come have lunch with me, and I swear I’ll let you get back to work after.” He extends his hand to you, palm up, with a boyish smile. You wonder if he’s been in your position before, in some shape or form. “But you have to promise not to think about work while we’re hanging out, alright? Focus on one target at a time.”

• “…Traveler.” Zhongli’s voice is gentle as he sets a teapot onto your desk. A calming aroma drifts from it; when did he brew that? Were you so distracted that you hadn’t heard him? 
• The man only chuckles at the question written on your face. “I’ve been here for a while.” He gestures to the window, sunlight streaming in like ribbons from a dance. “You’ve been working for hours.”
• …You didn’t have the time for what he was suggesting. There would be other days, where–
• When you meet those amber eyes, you feel your excuses deflate. “…Perhaps I’ll go for a walk, just a short one.”
• There’s amusement in the way he pretends this wasn’t the outcome he was hoping for - for you to take a break, however short, and remember there was a world outside filled with color. A bit of the weight on your shoulders lifts as you take a walk with him, allowing your world to slow down.

• “Catching up… to me?” Ganyu repeats in surprise. Understanding crosses her face when she realises how her work habits must’ve made you feel. Guilt comes next; she’s promised you a long time ago that she would take care of herself, but it seems like she’s failed to recognise when you started to need the same attention.
• “Y/N, please don’t ever feel like you have to match or surpass anyone’s progress.” Ganyu’s gaze holds yours, and you’re unable to look away. She takes both your hands to give them a squeeze.
• “There is value in you regardless of work results. You’re plenty irreplaceable without pushing yourself like this; your friendship in itself has made an impact on me, more than you’d know.” 
• “I… I wish to be someone you can rely on, just as you’ve accepted my insecurities.” Ganyu laughs lightly. “I suppose in that way, we’re both hoping to catch up with one-another, so don’t treat yourself too harshly, alright?”

so close, so far.

༊…FEATURING;childe. ⇝ CW/TW;basically suicidal thoughts, multiple possible impliedmental illnesses.

liyue has never felt so dull.

your legs shift beneath you, the fabric of your clothing catching on the splinters of wood that stick out from the railing. the wind sifts past you then, a cool breeze that makes goosebumps rise on your skin; desperately chasing warmth. it finds none.

the ground is far, perhaps too close. the cracks in the pavement, oh so subtle, scream at you. memories of moments long ago; the fall of a brick, heavy, easily shattering the concrete. shattering itself in the process. you wonder, just briefly, how easy it’d be to tip over the edge, how simple it would be to do the same—how simultaneously excrutiating but painlessit would feel, making contact with the ground. 

the breeze picks up, much like a warning. the careful slamof the entrance to northland bank feels like a slap to the face—what time is it? what are you doing here? you need to leave, you need to get away before it’s too late, before—

“what are you doing out here, comrade?”

“looking,” the answer comes too quickly as you wave up at the sky.

childe spares only the smallest of glances towards the view; nothing new, liyue always looks like this so early in the morning. he, however, can focus clearly on the intent behind your words—it’s not unfamiliar, the way your voice rises in pitch. he knows why, hell, he knows all too well. looking,you’d said?he grimaces, looking for? looking at? perhaps you’re not really looking at all. 

“hmm.”

you try not to cringe; old habits die hard. childe is as embarrassing as ever.

the distance between the two of you is unfamiliar—always either too close or too far apart, you were. this time, though, he remains at least a few yards away. boundaries have never been spoken of between you two, always too entranced by the other to care; childe wants nothing more than to reach out, hold your hand, hold you tight, and never, everlet go. 

he cannot do that. what he can do, though, is look. that is all childe has been able to do. he can’t remember the last time you’d touched—the last time you’d so much as spared him a glance. he wonders how unexpected it’d be if he were to reach out now; maybe not at all. you know him better than anyone else, anyway. i’m sorry, he wants to say, the moment the sun breaks over the horizon.

he can’t miss the way your eyes gleam so shamelessly under the light; eyes once so bright, a blessing to his own. he wants to see your smile once again—it has been long enough. he may not even carry the rightto drag that out of you, but he wants to try, anyway. anything for you.

you breathe out, a quiet exhale. he looks away.

“i should go.”

this time, he does not speak. although it’s not unexpected, and sure as hell not uncalled for—why would he care, anyway?—his footsteps are slow, languid, more ajax-like than they were only moments prior. they get louder, and louder, and louder, until suddenly his warmth is behind you, a silent kind of question. 

he’s so close. too far. you lean back, subconsciously, burrowing yourself into him. into ajax, childe, tartaglia—whatever he goes by, now. the steady wrapping of his arms around your shoulders is not unwelcome, nor is the pressure of his chin on the top of your head. the way childe hugs, the way he holds, the way he embracesyou..it’s comforting, in a way it should not be.

“don’t go yet.”, he whispers.

don’t go where? you wonder, because where would you go? there is nowhere to be. then, you realize, the ground is so close, there is no one in the street, and that in itself is answer enough. “why?” you ask, because the newfound eleventh harbinger should not care about a local such as yourself. he is not your ajax anymore—no, he’s the tsarita’s faithful servant. he has better things to do, as do you.

the response takes longer than it should; you and childe think horribly alike.

“you can’t leave me alone.”

the breathless laughter, almost sob-ridden, makes your heart race just a little faster than it should. it may have been a while, a while toolong, but childe is no stranger to you. the two of you know that better than anyone; the connection the two of you carried cannot and will not sever itself. even beyond the extent of your lives, it will retain itself towards infinity, however long that may be.

“just a little longer, i promise.”, he adds.

it’s a lie, you think, at the same time his grip tightens around you. it feels like a plea, a beg for mercy, a vulnerability ajax has never shown to anyone but you. you know you cannot accept such a request, you won’t, you shouldn’t; it won’t be just a little longer, you know.childe will become and remain a constant in your life the moment you accept. he will honour the vow he’d taken years ago, won’t let you go the second he has you back. not when you’re like this; simply because, deep down, in that twisted, ugly heart of his—he will always care for you.

perhaps that’s what you need. perhaps it’s what you crave. your hearts have always been just a little too similar.

“okay.”

the hum you receive in response speaks a thousand words. this will not make everything better, no, of course it won’t; what it will do, though, is help you hold on just a little longer. it’s all you have, anyway.

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